


Ruby Red

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [615]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:22:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: Anonymous askedHurt and comfort ALAN AND SCOTT Thunderbirds!!!! hurt em badly
Series: prompt ficlets [615]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/53353
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

“Please.” The word is barely recognisable as English anymore, Scott’s mouth so swollen, barely able to open enough to spit the words.

The Hood is unimpressed, barely even looking at Scott. His eyes are fixed on Alan. “Is it time for….”

“No!” Scott spits blood across the concrete floor, hanging limply from the high restraints. Alan wished he didn’t look so…crucified. “Me. Please. Me.”

Only Alan can see the slash of a smile that spreads across the Hood’s face. “Begging me to hit you? Noble sacrifice, or do we need to kink shame you, Mr Tracy?”

“I’m the one you want.” Alan has no idea where Scott’s drawing this strength from, but he groans and lifts himself a few inches so he can look at the Hood again. “Leave him alone.”

“But you’re all tied up, _Scott_,” Hood purred. “Can I call you Scott? I feel like once you have a man’s blood on your cravat, you should be on a first name basis.” A pocket square flicked out, and Alan wasn’t the only one who flinched. The Hood ignored it, polishing a speck of gore off his knuckles. “What is it worth to you, for me not to beat your dear baby brother down to a pulp?”

Scott dropped to the full extent of his restraints, his shoulders dragging him up from lying down on the wet concrete floor. “Fine-” he muttered, mumbling a string of letters and numbers.

“Scott! No!”

The Hood raised his hand, and Alan wanted to be brave and strong, but instinct overrode heroism and he flinched away. “Good boy. What was that, Scott?”

“The security code for Thunderbird One. My Bird is yours. Just give me my damn brother, unharmed.”

“Thank you Misters Tracy.” A key tinkled on the concrete as it landed in the space between them that neither could reach. “I am a man of my word. Your brother, unharmed. Good day to you both.”

Alan waited until he heard boots fade, heavy metal doors slam and seal. “Scott! You idiot! Why did you do that?” He leaned closer, as far as he could against his own restraints. “Scott?”

Scott wasn’t moving, except for the slight sway of his restraints and the steady dripping of blood dropping from his lip to the floor.

“Scott? Wake up! Please?” 

Nothing.

“SCOTT!” The scream bounced off the concrete walls of the box they were sealed in, but Scott didn’t even groan.

Alan curled up in on himself and hoped like hell for rescue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
That anon, who told you to break Alan and Scott that was an awesome piece now... fix em. Please my heart 😭😭

Alan poured more blueberries in the blender and set it to whizz. He was getting good at mixtures that could be drunk through a wired-shut jaw.

When he climbed the stairs, glass and straw held carefully, he emerged into an argument.

“For gods sake, get a keyboard or a pen and paper of something, Scotty!” Gordon always sounding joking when he was frustrated, and Virgil had clearly heard it too given the way he gently but firmly cuffed Gordon and dragged him away.

Alan moved softly, carefully, setting the smoothie on the desk. Scott was looking at his hands, more mitts than fingers with the wraps of splints and bandages. “Hey, it’s ok. Remember what the physio said, it will take time but you’ll get back there.”

He’s getting good at reading Scott now. This eyebrow/eyeroll combination was a complete essay.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it sucks. So be a good boy and slurp your smoothie.

Another eyeroll, softer this time. But the slight jerk of the chin guided Alan to putting the straw in, arranging the glass so it was close to the edge of the table. He helped Scott sit, not missing the way Scott accepted help where once, before, he would have shrugged it off.

Alan sat on the edge of the table, one hand holding the glass steady, the other on Scott’s shoulder, reassuring both of them that they were going to be fine.


End file.
